


Ghosts That We Knew

by Trashland (Destieltrashland)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Accidental Death, Falling In Love, First Dates, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Ghost Sam, Hand Jobs, Haunting, Human Castiel, Impala Makeouts, Impala Sex, Kissing, M/M, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Semi-Public Sex, Sex in the Impala, Witch Castiel, Witchcraft, Writer Castiel, kind of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-16
Updated: 2016-05-16
Packaged: 2018-06-08 17:26:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6866176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destieltrashland/pseuds/Trashland
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is a regular thirty-something guy with one big secret: he lives with his little brother Sam, who happens to be a ghost. </p><p>Cas is his hot new neighbor. A professor and writer who thinks Dean is just as funny and charming as he does. Problem is, Cas has a secret too: he can see ghosts.</p><p>Will they be able to trust each other enough to let out their secrets and help Sam find peace?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to my lovely friends [Moontourist](http://archiveofourown.org/users/moontourist) and [LizDarcy83](http://archiveofourown.org/users/LizDarcy83) for making this fic happen. You guys keep me encouraged and on track!

Dean laid back on the couch, his hands behind his head, tapping his foot to the beat of the stereo. He glanced over at the window, noticing the curtains for the first time since he hung them two years ago. They were faded and dusty along the top edge. They could probably use a wash. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he cringed. He was twenty seven years old, why was he laying here on Friday evening thinking about curtains? 

“Sammy?”

No response. He groaned, not wanting to get off the couch yet. 

“Sammy!”

He heard his brother’s loud footsteps coming down the hallway upstairs. His sock clad feet appeared on the staircase, descending a few steps. 

“What, Dean? I’m busy.”

“Let’s go out tonight.”

He could practically feel Sam’s eye roll even though he couldn’t see it. 

“I’m trying to get ready for school. Classes start Monday, remember?” 

“Come on, Sammy. It’s Friday night! You can get your pencil box and craft scissors together tomorrow. You’ve been twenty one for months now and you’ve barely gone out with me at all!” 

Sam came down a few more steps, tilting his body to the side so that he could see Dean through the staircase railing. Dean grinned as Sam’s long hair fell down getting into his face. Sam grumbled, pushing the unruly strands back behind his ear. 

“Ok, Dean. We can go out-“ Dean whooped in triumph, throwing his fist into the air. “-on one condition.”

Dean groaned. “What condition?”

“You remember that box of books I saved from high school?” 

Dean shrugged. He remembered carrying several boxes of books when they moved in. He had no idea what was in each one though or what Sam had done with any particular box once they got here. He told Sam as much. 

“Help me find this box and then we can go.” 

Dean sighed dramatically and swung his legs off the side of the couch. He rubbed his face with his hands, thinking. 

“Have you checked the hall closet or the attic?” he said, knowing those were the two most likely culprits besides Sam’s own closet (which he assumed had already been checked). 

“The attic! I forgot we had stuff up there. Thanks Dean!” 

He turned to go back up the stairs but Dean stopped him. “Hurry up and find your stupid books so we can go. I wanna stop and grab a burger first.”

Sam nodded and clambered back up the steps. Dean could hear his footsteps down the hall once more. He smiled at the familiar noise. 

Dean went into the kitchen and ran a glass of water. He drank it slowly, trying to decide if they should get burgers at Mr.Frosty’s or the bluebird diner. They both had their merits; good burgers, decent milkshakes and fries, salads for Sam. He rolled his eyes fondly, shaking his head and draining the glass. He would never understand the kid and his health food obsession. He put away the few dishes in the drain board by the sink and wiped down the counter.

He heard Sam’s voice, distant and unclear. He moved into the living room, approaching the stairs. “What?” he called up. 

“I think I found it!” He could just barely make out the words. Sam must still be in the attic. 

He heard the old ladder creak and the sound of heavy steps on it. 

“Need some help?” 

“Nah. I think I’ve got it.” Sam’s voice was clearer now. 

More heavy steps and then, “Oh shit!” and a loud crash followed by a thud. 

“Sam?” he called as he hurried up the stairs. “Sammy!”


	2. Chapter 2

With the curtain pulled slightly ajar, Dean stared out the window. The guy out front was tall, with messy dark hair, and a slim but toned body. Dean paid special attention to the flex of his calves as he stooped to lift another box and walk it up the sidewalk to the house next door. He wondered if the guy was a mover or if, like he secretly hoped, the guy was his new neighbor. 

“You’re being totally creepy right now.”

Dean jumped, dropping the curtain back into place and stumbling back a step. 

“What the hell Sammy! You almost gave me a heart attack.” Dean said as his eyes searched the room. “Come on. You know I hate this disembodied voice shit.” 

Sam materialized on the other side of the window, leaning back against the frame and smirking. The familiar sweatpants and t-shirt always made Dean’s heart ache for a moment, even now. 

“You’re the one who’s being creepy, floating around all invisible and spying on me.” 

Sam rolled his eyes. “I don’t float and I wasn’t being any worse than you. Hiding behind a curtain and watching the new neighbor? Really, Dean? What are you, a middle schooler?” 

Dean scoffed even as he felt his cheeks flush a little. “You’re a middle schooler.” 

Sam’s face cracked into a smile. “So you think he’s hot.” Sam nodded before tilting his head and batting his eyelashes, “Awww Dean has a crush!” he sing-songed. 

“Shut up, Sammy.”

“Why don’t you just go talk to him?” Sam said as he pulled the curtain aside and peeked out. 

“I will. I will. I was, uh, about to when you scared the crap out of me.” 

“Uh huh.” Sam said, pulling the curtain further to the side. 

“Watch out Sammy, don’t be so obvious!” Dean said. Sam threw him a bitchface. 

“Dean, no one but you can see me. The most he would see if he looked over here was the curtain pulled open some. That’s not weird, so stop freaking out.” 

Dean sighed. Sam was right of course. Even four years after his death, Dean still wasn’t used to being the only person who could see or talk to him. His brother just seemed so full of life still, so himself, that there were times when Dean forgot he was dead altogether. It had led to many awkward conversations, but luckily most people just thought it was part of the grieving process and were too polite to say anything. 

“You should go over there now, he looks like he could use some help.” 

Dean snapped out of his train of thought and peeked out the window. The guy was piling boxes onto a dolly, creating a mismatched stack of small and large boxes. Even from here Dean could see the smaller box at the bottom swaying a little. Well, that settled it; the guy was definitely not a mover. 

“I guess it couldn’t hurt to offer my services.” Dean said, shooting Sam a wink. Sam rolled his eyes again. 

“Yeah, yeah. Well, if it works out can you guys go to his place? I wanted to watch the Walking Dead tonight.” 

Dean nodded, flashing a grin. “I can try Sammy, but no promises.” 

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

\------  
Cas checked his phone again but the screen was still empty. No messages and no missed calls. He grumbled to himself as he began stacking boxes on the dolly. He was going to kill Gabe and Balthazar the next time he saw them. He cursed himself too. He knew when they said they were “just going to take a break and grab a burger” that they would never come back but he had been too tired to argue with them. They were probably at a bar, snuggled up to a waitress or two, having a grand old time. 

His back ached and his calves were burning. He really needed to start running again. This neighborhood would be great for it, nice sidewalks with lots of tree cover so that it wouldn’t be too hot. Plus, the streets were quiet. He smiled a little at the thought of a good run and a hot shower. Not today obviously, but maybe later this week. He placed the last box on the top of the stack, noticing the slight tilt of the boxes under it but choosing to ignore it for now. If he could just get this last batch inside, he could stop for the evening. 

He pushed the dolly forward and pulled down on the handlebar trying to tilt it back onto its wheels but the movement jostled the stack and the tower collapsed. He cursed, out loud this time, running his fingers through his hair as he looked down at the scattered boxes. Luckily they were mostly books, so he doubted anything was damaged, but still. He took a moment to pull in a deep breath and rotate his neck, stretching the tense muscles. 

“Need some help?”

His eyes opened immediately and fell on the stranger approaching him from the house next door. The guy was clad in a t-shirt and jeans, both looking worn and comfortable. He had beautiful features, defined cheekbones, a square jaw, and plush lips. Cas swallowed hard, trying to find his voice. 

If this was his new neighbor, he might be in trouble. 

“Yeah, sure. Help would be great.” He managed to say. The guy grinned and Cas felt his heart skip. His smile was blinding, wide and honest. It made the skin around his eyes crinkle, a fact that Cas found both sexy and endearing. 

The guy stooped to pick up the largest box and place it on the dolly. “You gotta start with the larger ones and work your way up, like a pyramid, that way they won’t fall.” He looked up at Cas, who was still staring. His eyes were green, like granny smith apples and he had a smattering of freckles across his nose. Cas felt his cheeks flush. 

“Ah that was my mistake then. I’m tired and in a hurry I guess.” He said, hoping the words all came out in the right order. He wasn’t entirely sure they had. The guy kept stacking the boxes, largest to smallest. 

“Yeah man, I hear that. Moving sucks. Especially by yourself.” The guys eyes trailed up Cas’ body casually, not stopping anywhere for too long but definitely looking, before locking onto his again. 

“My brother and one of my friends were here earlier but they left to get dinner and I have a feeling they ditched me.” He said, with a slight shrug. 

The guy chuckled, a deep throaty sound that made Cas shiver. “Yeah. You can never let them leave. That’s why you’re supposed to order pizza and have beer when they get here to help. That way they have no excuse not to stick around.” He shook his head a little and flashed another smile at Cas. “My name’s Dean, by the way, Dean Winchester. I live next door.” He pointed a thumb over his shoulder at the house he had come from. 

The house in question was two stories, blue with white trim on the windows and porch railings and had a bright red front door. The yard was a uniform green, with small rock borders built up around the trees and lining the sidewalk. Cas liked it instantly. It looked homey and well cared for. He smiled over at Dean. 

“Well Dean Winchester, I’m Castiel Novak, but you can call me Cas. And I guess we are going to be neighbors.” He pointed back to his own house. It was two stories as well, painted a cool gray color with white trim, but the yard was patchy and yellow in places. He frowned a little when he noticed it again. 

Dean stuck out his hand. “Well welcome to the neighborhood Cas!” he said, all enthusiasm and charm. Cas shook his hand, noting the roughness of his palms. The guy even had nice hands. Cas really was doomed. 

“So where am I headed?” Dean said. They had dropped the handshake but were still looking at one another. Cas felt his face flush again.

“Right up the sidewalk, just drop them anywhere inside. The door is open. I’m going to grab the rest and lock up the truck. I’ll be right behind you.” He said. 

“Right-o.” Dean said. He pushed the dolly up the walkway towards the house. 

Cas crawled into the back of the moving truck, picking up random papers and items that had slipped from boxes or been dropped along the way somehow. He jumped out and pulled down the metal door, securing the latch and slipping the lock into place. It wasn’t really necessary now that the truck was empty but he did it anyway. 

As he headed up the walk he glanced back at Dean’s house. Maybe he could ask Dean about the grass and what he needed to do to get his back in shape, he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement in one of the upstairs windows and when he looked he saw a pale shape flit past before it disappeared. Must be the sun, he thought, noting that it was still out even at this late hour – daylight savings time at work. He continued up to the house, twisting his back and pulling one arm across his chest. His shoulders ached too. He wondered where that box of stuff from the medicine cabinet was. 

When he got inside, Dean was standing in the living room looking around. 

“Your house is beautiful Cas. I love these high ceilings.” He said. 

Cas smiled. “Thank you, Dean. That was one of the things that made me choose it.”

Dean nodded, still surveying the room. “So where’re you from, Cas?” 

Cas moved a small box and flopped down onto one end of the sofa. “Originally I’m from Illinois but I’ve lived the last two years in Seattle.”

“Wow. What made you come to California? Too much rain?” Dean said, turning to look at him. He was standing by the front window now, his shoulder against the frame. 

Cas laughed softly. “Yes, there was a lot of rain but I didn’t really mind it. I find the rain soothing most of the time.” Dean nodded. “I moved down here to be near my brother, mostly. He’s the one who I didn’t bribe well enough earlier.” 

Dean chuckled. “Well I can understand that. Family is important.” His face took on a more somber look for a moment but then it was gone, back to being open and charming. Cas wasn’t sure he had really seen it. 

“Well did you need any more help?” Dean said, pushing himself off the window frame and taking a step toward Cas. Cas stood up, his joints protesting the movement. 

“No, Dean. What you did was more than enough. Thanks again.”

“Anytime, man. It was nice to meet you.” Dean said, he wiped his palms on his jeans and stuck out his hand again. Cas took it and shook firmly. 

“Same to you, Dean. I’ll have to find a way to repay you.”

Dean’s cheeks flushed a little. “Nah. It’s ok. That’s what neighbors do.” He moved to the front door, Cas trailing behind him. “See ya around, Cas.”


	3. Chapter 3

He was not scared of the new neighbor, no matter what Sam said. Yeah, it had been two weeks since the guy moved in and Dean still hadn’t figured out a non-creepy way to go over there and talk to him but that didn’t mean he was afraid of him. It’s not like he hadn’t seen the guy at all. Cas ran almost every single day, right about the time that Dean was leaving for work, and they waved at each other in passing. Dean even said good morning sometimes and Cas would reply in that whiskey-on-the-rocks voice of his. 

He did not have a crush on the guy either, even if Sam wouldn’t shut up about it. Yes, Cas was attractive, he could admit that. He had that perpetually messy hair, sharp jawline, and slightly chapped lips that shouldn’t be hot but still were. And yeah, he had an amazing body. One memorable morning he had paused at the end of Dean’s driveway, lifting his shirt to wipe the sweat from his face before saying their morning greetings. He was lean but still muscular and Dean’s eyes had fixated on the dark trail of hair leading from his bellybutton down into his shorts before he managed to regain his bearings enough to say hello. Dean might have been a few minutes late to work that morning but none of that meant anything. 

The guy was interesting, that was all. Dean had googled his name a few days after they met and found out he had been a literature professor in Seattle. He even found a few short stories Cas had published over the years and in his opinion, they were really good. They centered on religious themes; angels, demons, saints, and people who were just trying to do well by mankind. Dean thought the writing was beautiful and he was able to connect to the characters without even being religious himself. 

Ok. He might have a little bit of a crush. 

He grumbled to himself as he gathered his wallet and keys. To-go mug in one hand and lunch in the other he called out, “See you later, Sammy!” and headed out the door. 

The rumbling of the garage door masked the sound of footsteps and Dean jumped, dropping his coffee, when a hand tapped him on the shoulder. He turned quickly and was face to face with the subject of his recent internal debates. 

“Hello Dean. I’m sorry if I scared you.” Cas said as he bent down and picked up the travel mug off the concrete, handing it back to Dean. 

“Hey Cas. Just startled me is all. What’s up?” Dean took the mug back, taking a few deep breaths to steady his heart rate. 

Cas was in running shorts and a tank top like always, the hair around his ears and on his forehead curling with sweat. His eyes looked especially blue today, like the water off one of those picturesque islands somewhere, and Dean had to mentally shake himself in order to focus on what the other man was saying. 

“-this morning. I was wondering if-“ 

“Hold on, Cas. Start over. My mind wandered for a second there.” 

“Right. Well, my car wouldn’t start this morning and I was wondering if you knew of a good mechanic in town? I know I could look online but I never feel like I can trust the reviews. I’d much rather get a recommendation from someone I know.” 

Dean couldn’t help but grin at that. Here was the in he had been looking for all along. He might have to rethink his ideas about the existence of the almighty because this was too perfect. 

“Yeah, sure Cas. Actually I own a shop downtown but I can come over and take a look right now if you’d like. Wouldn’t want you to be stuck here all day if it’s something easy.” 

“Really? If it’s not too much trouble, that would be great. Thank you, Dean.” 

Dean nodded, opening the trunk of his car and removing his toolbox. Cas lead the way to his garage, opening the door and ushering Dean inside. His car was an older model Lincoln Continental. Dean laughed a little when he saw it. 

“I never took you for a pimp-mobile kind of guy, Cas.” 

Cas blushed, something Dean decided he would never get tired of seeing. 

“She was my first car and I guess I’m sentimental. I just never got rid of her.”

Dean nodded. “I can understand that. My baby was my dad’s when I was a kid. When I hit eighteen he passed her down to me and I don’t think I’ll ever get rid of her either. I love that car.” 

He took the keys, turning the ignition and listening carefully. The car didn’t make any noise and the dashboard didn’t light up. 

“Might just be a dead battery. Let me see if I have my battery tester.” He said. He rummaged through his tool box until he found it and hooked it up. A few moments later he shook his head. “Yeah looks like your battery is toast.”

Cas groaned but nodded. “Well I guess it could be worse. Thank you for checking it Dean.” Cas smiled at him softly. 

“Sure thing, Cas. Did you want a ride to the auto parts place to grab a new one?” His heart started to race a little even as he said it. Now that they were talking again, he didn’t want the conversation to end just yet. 

Cas’ smile widened. “Are you sure that won’t interfere with your morning? You were headed to work I assume. I don’t want you to be late. I’m sure I could get my friend Balthazar to give me a ride later today.”

“No, it’s fine Cas, really. I wouldn’t have offered if I couldn’t do it. One of the perks of being the boss is that I can be late if I need to.” He grinned. “Plus, what kind of neighbor would I be if I left you stranded here?” 

Cas laughed. “That’s true. That wouldn’t be very neighborly of you.” He smiled at Dean again and Dean felt his heart flutter. “Ok. Can I change first? I’ll be quick, I promise. Would you like to come inside to wait or..” he trailed off. 

“Sure. That’d be great.” 

****

On the drive to the store, Cas ran his hand along the leather of the front seat and smiled again. “This car is beautiful, Dean. I’ve seen you drive by and admired it before but there is something about being inside it that makes it even better.” 

Dean felt his face flush a little. “Thanks Cas. I restored her myself a few years back. Some idiot hit me and totaled her, almost broke my heart.” 

Dean glanced over and caught Cas watching him. They stared at each other for a moment before Dean tore his eyes away again. 

“So how do you like California?” 

They made small talk the rest of the way. Cas was settling in well, he said. He loved the weather, was having fun reconnecting with his brother, and was finding the environment very inspiring. Dean let slip that he knew Cas had been a professor before but rather than acting bothered by it, Cas just laughed. Dean decided it was one of the best laughs he had ever heard. 

“I’m not planning on teaching until next semester. I want to spend a few months trying to get my next book outlined so that it will be easier to work on when classes start.” 

“Your next book? How many have you written? Do I know any of them?” 

“You might. I don’t know what you read, Dean.” He said with a cheeky smile. Dean was sure the tips of his ears were pink by now. “The series is called Supernatural and this is the fourth one. It’s about two brothers who fight monsters and save people.” 

“Woah, really? I thought those books were written by some other guy, uh, Edlund or something?” 

“Carver Edlund is my pen name but don’t tell anyone. It’s kind of a secret.” His cheeky smile returned for a moment. “So I take it you’ve read them?” 

Dean shook his head. “No, my brother does. Or did. He was a big fan.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. Would he ever figure this tense thing out? Hopefully Cas wouldn’t notice it. 

He glanced over and Cas was looking at him again. His eyes were searching, like he wanted to say something but was holding it back. Dean held his breath until Cas nodded softly and turned his attention away again. 

“So what do you read, Dean?” 

Dean let out his breath and shook his head. “Not much these days but my favorite author is Vonnegut.” He thought about it a moment. When was the last time he had actually read a book? “I guess I like Bradbury, Heller, and Asimov, too.”

Cas nodded. “So, satire and sci-fi.” He turned his appraising gaze on Dean again, “You are a very interesting man, Dean Winchester.” 

“Thanks, Cas. Same to you.” He knew he was blushing now. 

They reached the store and got what they needed quickly. Dean drove Cas back home and offered to install it but Cas turned him down. 

“I already owe you enough Dean, and I’ve made you late. I can do this part.” He said. “What can I do to repay you, really? I’m not very handy or anything but uh, my brother owns a bakery?” That adorable pink tinge was back on his cheeks and Dean smiled seeing it. 

“How about you let me make you dinner tonight? I could grill up some burgers and you can bring dessert. I love pie.” He said. 

Cas smiled broadly, his nose scrunching up in the middle as he laughed. Dean’s heart did a flip-flop in his chest. 

“Well, ok. That’s sounds great, Dean. And Gabriel makes wonderful pies, so consider dessert covered.”


	4. Chapter 4

They ate at a small oak table in Dean’s kitchen. Like the rest of the house, the kitchen was warm and inviting and Cas felt a sense of comfort as soon as he entered. It felt like a home. Dean made juicy burgers with thick slices of bacon and cheddar cheese and hand cut fries. Cas was in heaven from the first bite. 

“That was the best burger I’ve ever eaten, Dean.” He leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table and picking up his beer. Dean smiled at him, his grin broad and open as always. 

“Thanks, Cas. I think they turned out pretty well.” He folded his arms on the table, tapping his beer bottle with his fingers. “So do you like to cook?”

“Not really. I can make breakfast pretty well and my spaghetti isn’t half bad but that’s about it. What about you?” 

Dean nodded. “Yeah. I don’t do it as much these days. I used to cook a lot growing up though. My brother and I lived with our uncle, who could make a mean pot of chili or beans but not much else. I kind of picked up the slack.” 

Cas smiled imaging a younger Dean cooking for his family. Not only was he funny and much smarter than he gave himself credit for, he was also giving and cared about the people around him. Cas was definitely in danger of falling hard for the man. 

“Tell me about your family. Is your brother younger or older than you?” 

Dean took a long drink of his beer, lingering with his lips on the mouth of the bottle. He swallowed hard and looked down at the tabletop. “He was younger than me by six years. He, uh, he died four years ago.”

“Oh. I’m sorry Dean. I didn’t know.” Cas reached out and placed his hand over Dean’s, now curled into a fist. His fist loosened. 

“It’s ok, Cas.”

“Can I ask how he passed away?” He wasn’t sure what made him ask, morbid curiosity maybe, or just the desire to understand. 

Dean rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “He, uh, he slipped coming down the attic stairs. Hit his head. I got up there as soon as I heard him but the paramedics said I couldn’t have done anything.” His voice trailed off. 

His eyes were unfocused, pointed at the tabletop but clearly not seeing it. Cas held his hand tighter, his heart aching for the man in front of him. 

“I’m so sorry, Dean. I can’t even imagine.” 

They sat in silence for a few minutes. Cas ran his thumb across the back of Dean’s hand. He wanted to reach out, to pull the man to him but he wasn’t sure if Dean would accept it right now.

“Tell me about him.” He said softly. Dean took a deep breath, blowing it out slowly through his mouth. 

“Yeah?” he glanced over then and Cas nodded. 

“Yeah. If that’s ok. He was obviously important to you; I’d like to know about him.” 

Dean looked down at their hands, still clasped together on the tabletop. 

“Sammy was,” he let out another breath, “He’s a great kid and so frickin smart, man. He was going to school at Stanford, that’s why we moved here. He wanted to be a lawyer.” Dean’s lips curved up in a small smile, “He had this long hair that I always teased him about and he ate almost nothing but vegetables. Kid was like a rabbit but he could still appreciate a good burger.” He looked up again, catching Cas’ eyes. 

“You miss him.” Cas said, knowing the words were inadequate. Dean nodded. 

“Some days more than others.” He said. He drained his beer and went to fetch replacements. 

Cas watched him, even though the fridge was only a few steps away. He paused with the door open, taking another deep breath. The light above him flickered twice and his head snapped up. He squinted at it a moment before grabbing the bottles and coming back to the table. 

“Might need a new bulb.” He said, his voice a little strained. Cas just nodded, finishing his warm beer before taking a new one. 

The silence between them was heavy and Cas wasn’t sure how to break the tension but he decided to just take the plunge and hope for the best. 

“I have two brothers, both older. Gabriel is a pastry chef with a ridiculous sweet tooth and a strange sense of humor. He loves practical jokes and basically tortured me throughout my childhood.” He smiled softly, thinking about Gabe’s golden eyes and how they always seem to gleam when he is up to something. “He’s actually a really good guy though. Very accepting and always willing to help me out. He tends to be protective too.” 

Dean smiled at him. “Damn right. That’s how older brothers are supposed to be Cas.” 

“Then there’s Michael. He works in finance or stocks or something in New York. He’s eight years older than Gabe and ten years older than me. I think he was jealous when Gabe and I were born, after being an only child for so long, and then when I came out, well, I’m not even sure he likes me to tell you the truth. We don’t talk except at Christmas and even then it’s only by card.” He grimaced a little, his lips flattened into a line. 

Dean shook his head. “Some people.” He said, taking another swig of his drink. “He doesn’t know what he’s missing.” He said softly. His eyes lifted again and Cas felt his chest tighten. They held each other’s gaze. In the low light of the kitchen Dean’s eyes were a deeper green, almost the shade of emeralds and when they caught the light he could make out tiny flecks of gold in them. 

“Thank you, Dean.” 

“Ready for dessert?” Dean’s eyes lit up at the prospect and Cas couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Sure. I brought apple and pecan because I forgot to ask you what you prefer.”

Dean groaned. “I like all pie, Cas but pecan is my favorite.” 

He got up, taking two small plates from the cabinet and opening one of the pie boxes. 

He stared into the box for a moment before his face cracked into a grin and he started laughing. His head tipped back and his eyes scrunched closed. Cas moved over to the counter quickly, his forehead furrowed and peeked into the box. 

The top of the apple pie was a beautiful latticework of pie crust, the thin strips sprinkled with grains of sugar. In the center, instead of the usual apple cut out that Gabe put on all of his apple pies was a golden brown, sugar sprinkled, _penis_. 

Cas rolled his eyes, his cheeks flaming, and looked over at Dean. He was rubbing his hand over the back of his neck and chuckling softly. 

“I take it Gabriel still has a sense of humor.” He said, his eyes sparkling with mirth, a grin still covering his face. “It’s not even that funny, it just surprised me is all and then I started imaging what other pranks he pulled on you as a kid. I mean, if giving you a pie with a dick on it to bring to a date is any example, I’m sure it was hilarious.” 

Cas shook his head but he couldn’t keep from smiling. “It was not hilarious to live through, I assure you.” 

Dean opened the other box, pausing dramatically before removing the lid. This pie was surprisingly prank free and Cas sent up a small prayer of thanks for that fact. Dean cut them each a slice and suggested they move to the living room. 

He was still smiling as he switched on a lamp and settled into the big leather sofa. Cas sat next to him, close enough that their knees bumped together. 

“Ok you gotta tell me some more prank stories. I’ve got a few of my own too. Sam and I used to have prank wars for days until uncle Bobby would tell us to ‘stop being idjits.’” He dropped into a gruff voice with a hint of southern drawl for the last part and that made Cas grin around the tines of his fork. 

Dean turned and grabbed a frame off the side table, showing it to Cas. In the picture, a young Dean stood between a tall man with shaggy hair and a huge smile framed by dimples and an older man with a full beard and a trucker cap. He guessed the men in the picture were Sam and Bobby. 

“That’s a great picture.” He said, and smiled, watching Dean’s green eyes brighten a little.

“It’s one of my favorites,” he said, looking down at the photo before setting it back on the table. “Ok, so, pranks?” Dean said, obviously trying to lighten the mood again. 

Cas took another bite, the nutty pecans and sweet syrup coating his tongue, while he thought about it. “Ok. Senior year he took me to rent my tux for prom and after we left, he went back and tipped the guy an extra $50 to give me the wrong pants when I went to pick it up. I didn’t try the stupid thing on until the night before the dance and my pants only came down to my calves. Gabriel laughed himself sick but I was not amused. He managed to get them switched the day of though, so I didn’t look completely ridiculous.” 

Dean barked a short laugh. “That’s pretty good. One time I put kool-aid in Sam’s shampoo and dyed his hair blue. It washed out after a few days but I don’t think he talked to me for about two weeks after that.” He shook his head at the memory. The lamp beside them flickered once and Cas glanced at it. “Also, this pie is ridiculous.” Dean added. He took a giant bite of pie, chewing with his mouth partially open, and Cas cocked his head to the side. 

Ok so maybe not everything the man did was sexy. That was a relief. 

“Another time Sam put glue on my beer bottle when I left the table; I came back and couldn’t get the damn thing off my hand. That glue hurt like hell to get off too, I think I lost two layers of skin in the process.” 

The lamp flickered again twice. Cas cocked an eyebrow at it but Dean didn’t seem to notice. “That’s two to one, you owe me a prank.” He said as he dove back into his pie. 

“When I was in middle school Gabe figured out how to make his own itching powder. He used me as a guinea pig, without my knowledge and then he sold the stuff to all the kids in school. I thought something was wrong with me for the longest time until some kid came to ask me about the powder and I put two and two together.” 

Dean chuckled again. “Damn. That’s funny and smart.” 

“Yes. It really was. Once he stopped testing it on me, I helped cover for him with our parents. He spent all the money on candy but every so often he’d get me something too.” 

Dean smiled at him again. “So did you ever get him back?” 

Cas shook his head. “No. I never even thought to try. I looked up to him, you know?”

“Yeah, I know.” His smile slipped then, became softer, “Sam was younger but I still looked up to him. He’s always been so much more mature than me. It felt like he never went through a figuring it out stage, he just knew what he wanted to do with his life. He was twenty one and dating this great girl Jess. After their first date, he told me he was going to marry her someday.”

Cas reached out then, putting an arm around Dean’s shoulder and pulling him close. The hug was awkward, seated the way they were, but Dean went with it anyway. His strong arms wrapped around Cas’ waist and they just held each other for a long moment. The room felt cooler to Cas but he thought it was probably just the contrast of Dean’s warm skin against his own making it seem that way. 

Dean pulled back first, not moving away but just putting a little distance between them. 

“Can I kiss you, Cas?” he said softly. His eyes flicked down to Cas’ mouth and quickly back up again, searching. Cas nodded, licking his lips unconsciously. 

Dean’s mouth was soft and warm against his, his lips just as plush as Cas had imagined. He couldn’t help himself and his tongue darted out, plying for entrance. Dean opened to him and he tasted like sugar and hints of vanilla. Cas sighed softly into the kiss as Dean moaned into his mouth. Dean’s arms tightened around his waist, pulling him closer. He went willingly even as their knees knocked together. His own hands trailed up the back of Dean’s neck and ran through his hair, scratching with his short nails. Dean practically purred at that and Cas smiled around the kiss, continuing the motion. 

When they finally broke apart, each one still peppering the others’ mouth with small kisses before really moving away, Cas grinned. 

“Damn.”

Dean chuckled and again, the sound made something inside Cas twist in a pleasurable way. “Yeah. You could say that.” 

They curled up on the couch together for a while before Cas started to yawn and realized it was getting late. Dean, being the man that he is, walked him all the way to his front door before giving him a goodnight kiss and promises of more dates in the future. 

Cas stood in the doorway and watched Dean walk back across the yard, the light from a nearby streetlamp making him easy to see. When he reached his porch, he turned and waved before going inside. Just as Cas turned to do the same, he saw something in Dean’s attic window. A white shape hovered near the top of the window and Cas felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He took a cautious step out onto his porch but then the shape was gone. The memory of a fleeting glance of something the day he moved in triggered in his mind. 

He would have to keep an eye on this, he resolved, before going inside and shutting off the porch light. 

\------

“Dude, really?” Dean called out after he shut the front door. “Sammy!” he yelled. A moment later, Sam appeared, sitting on the staircase. 

“Yeah, Dean.” He said. He was looking up the stairs, his eyebrows pulled together. 

“What the hell were you doing, man? I thought I asked you to stay upstairs while Cas was here?” 

“I know, I know.” Sam said, his eyes meeting Dean’s. “I got bored up there and then I heard you say my name a couple of times, so --” he shrugged. 

Dean really hoped Sam hadn’t heard the whole conversation. Sam’s death was not something the brothers discussed.

“I’m sorry you were bored but come on, all that flickering lights shit? He definitely noticed. I had to act like I had weird lightbulbs or something.” 

“You know I can’t help that.” Sam said, getting defensive. “But ok, next time I’ll stay upstairs the whole time. You know, if you put a TV in up there I wouldn’t be bored.” He started to turn his puppy dog eyes on Dean but Dean shook his head. 

“Nu uh. I’m mad at you, I’m not agreeing to anything right now.” Internally, he started to wonder how much a small TV would cost these days anyway. 

Sam shrugged. “So the date went well…” he trailed off. Dean could see the hints of a smile quirking the corners of Sam’s lips. 

“Shuddup, Sammy.” He said but he felt himself smiling too. “Yeah, ok. It went well, really well. He’s awesome.” 

Sam full on grinned. “I’m glad Dean. You deserve something good in your life.”

Dean felt his face flush. See, here was that too-mature-for-his-own-good shit Dean had been telling Cas about. “Thanks Sammy. Well I’m gonna put this food away and then I’m going to bed. Keep the TV down. Last night I had a dream about zombies cause of you. All that damn growling.” He shuddered. 

Sam sent him a mock salute. “You got it!”


	5. Chapter 5

With gloved hands Cas patted the soil down around the base of his last plant, a California sunflower, and sat back with a satisfied smile. His little bee garden was beginning to take shape. He stood up, dusting his gloves on the worn jeans he was wearing before tugging them off. He grabbed a bottle of water off the patio table, the outside coated with beads of moisture, and drank deeply. He rolled the bottle against the sides of his neck and groaned, feeling the strain of being hunched over for too long. 

It had only been three days since their date but Cas already wanted to see Dean again. He wondered if it was too early to propose another dinner or maybe just a few beers on the patio. He hadn’t expected the news about Dean’s brother and it still made his heart ache when he thought about how Dean’s face had fallen when he first brought it up. Cas was no stranger to grief, his mother had died when he was in college several years ago, but that just made him aware of how little he could do for Dean beyond listening and being supportive if he needed it. 

He made his way around the house to the front yard. This morning, while saying their morning hellos (a practice Cas was very fond of at this point) he had finally asked Dean for advice on his lawn. He took the soil PH testing kit that Dean had suggested out of the trunk of his car and leaned against the bumper to read the instructions. Step one, put soil in the test tubes. 

He headed out into the lawn, deciding to test both the soil under a green patch of grass and the soil under a yellow patch. Of course, the yellowest patch of grass was right next to Dean’s lawn, a fact which made Cas feel embarrassed even though he knew it shouldn’t. He walked over to the spot and stooped to collect the necessary dirt. 

He heard the sound of canned laughter followed by music floating in the air. He cocked his head, looking around a bit. He stood, turning towards Dean’s house and he could definitely see the TV on through the front window. He hadn’t heard the impala and he was pretty sure the TV hadn’t been on a moment ago. Plus, Dean never had the TV on that loud - his music sometimes, yes, but luckily Cas was his only close neighbor and he didn’t mind classic rock or Dean’s off-tune singing voice. 

Cas dropped the kit into the grass and before he realized it, he was walking up Dean’s driveway. He stopped at the porch stairs, peeking through the window. The TV was definitely on – the bright faces of actors and actresses filling up the screen. He glanced around the living room, seeing part of the sofa and the coffee table. Just then a man walked into the room and Cas ducked down next to the porch railing. He didn’t think the man had seen him. 

Who was he? From the quick glance he knew it wasn’t Dean but something about the figure still seemed familiar. He risked another look, leaning up to look again. The man was stretched out, his long legs extending across the entire sofa, his feet propped on the arm rest at the far end. His hair was long, pushed behind his ears, and when he laughed at something on the TV, he had dimples. 

Cas had to stop himself from making a startled noise, pressing a hand to his mouth as he backed away, still in a crouch. 

Walking quietly back down the driveway, he went inside, the soil kit forgotten in the grass. 

***

“Gabe, I think I saw a ghost.”

“Hello to you too little bro. Now, what?” 

“I think I saw a ghost.” 

“Hold on. Isn’t that why you moved out to the suburbs in the first place, to avoid this crap? You said new construction was less likely to have spirits hanging around in it.” 

“Yes, Gabe. I remember what I said.”

“And isn’t that why we walked all over that damn house burning sage the morning you moved in? I smelled like that stuff for two days afterwards, don’t tell me it was for nothing.” He could hear his brother’s irritation in his voice.

“It’s not at my house, Gabe.” 

“Oh.”

“Yeah. It’s next door, at Dean’s.” 

“Ok.” His brother heaved a sigh into the speaker, “Start over at the beginning.” 

Cas told him the story. 

“Shit, Cas. You really think it’s his brother? It couldn’t just be a, I don’t know, a cousin or something? Someone who looks like him?” 

“From our conversations, I don’t think they have much family, Gabe. Plus he looks just like the man in the picture Dean showed me. It’s him.”

Gabe let out a breath and Cas could imagine him rubbing a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face like he always did when he was thinking. 

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know, Gabe! That’s why I called you. I really like this guy.” He sighed, “I don’t think I should tell him. He probably wouldn’t believe me but even if he did - It already seems like he feels guilty about Sam’s death, if he knew he was still here-”

“He’d probably want to know why and help him move on.”

Cas sighed. 

“But what if he doesn’t believe me? Or if Sam doesn’t want to cross over, or can’t?”

“I don’t know, Cas. Maybe you can talk to Sam first and then go from there?” 

He grunted into the phone, rubbing a hand down his face. “Yeah, maybe.”

The line was silent for a moment. 

“You really know how to pick ‘em don’t you, Cassie? Tall, handsome, funny, haunted.” His voice, while playful, was tinged with concern. “You gonna be ok, kiddo?” 

“Yeah. I’ll let you know what happens. Thanks for listening.”

“Anytime, Cassie, anytime.”

\-----------  
Castiel hadn’t always seen ghosts. His life was blessedly ghost free up until he hit puberty and then it was like a switch flipped. They started as dark shapes or indistinct figures but with time he could make out their human forms. He thought he was going crazy. He went to Gabe and poured out the story, hoping his brother would give him some reassurance. Gabe did not disappoint. At first he was skeptical but after listening to Cas’ whole story, and watching his earnest face as he told it, he decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. The next day, he took Cas to the library. 

Cas did research, lots of it. He read every book on spirits, ghosts, and the occult he could get his hands on. Gabe helped, in his own way, and together they got a better handle on it. Cas figured out that most of the spirits were still walking around because of unfinished business or in some truly sad cases, because they didn’t even realize they were dead. As far as he could tell most of them were harmless and if he left them alone, they would leave him alone. 

Several years later, Gabe found a witch for him to talk to. He still didn’t know how his brother had done it, but Gabe had always been a very resourceful guy, so he just chalked it up to that. The woman, Pamela, agreed to help him learn to harness his new abilities. She taught him what to look for when he suspected a spirit might be around. She said that because of his ability he would naturally draw the spirits to him but that he could do things to make himself less visible to them. She also told him that if he wanted to, he could help the spirits move on. Some of them wouldn’t want to, or wouldn’t be able to, she warned, so he needed to feel the situation out before he offered to help.

“Use your intuition” she said with a sharp smile, “ask questions. If they can, most spirits will try to be truthful. They are looking for answers too.”

After two months of training with her almost every evening, she sent him back out into the world. As he left, she gave him a book with several small rituals she thought would help him and a promise to answer if he called for advice. 

For a while, he hadn’t. He hadn’t called and he hadn’t done anything different. Then one day he ran into a guy he remembered from high school. He was sitting against a tree, his partially translucent form allowing the small white cross and bouquet of flowers behind him to show through. The cross had his name in the center. 

“Hey Alfie.” He said before he really thought about it. The guy looked up, surprised to be addressed directly. 

“Castiel?” He stood, taking a few steps forward, “Are you-? He trailed off. 

Cas shook his head. “No Alfie, I’m not dead.” Alfie’s face brightened, full of relief, and Cas felt his heart ache for the guy. They had never really been friends but they had shared classes over the years. Alfie was a sweet kid, polite, smart, and kind to everyone around him. “What happened?” 

Alfie told him about the car accident that had ended his life. He’d been hit by someone running a red light and had died on impact. He said at first he hadn’t known he was dead but when his mom showed up with the cross and flowers, he’d realized the truth. Cas nodded, surprised and saddened by the story. 

“I’ve never done it before but I know someone who says I should be able to help you move on. If you want to, that is.” He’d offered. 

That was the first time. From then on, he started helping whenever he could. 

****

Cas shook himself out of his stupor. He was still sitting at the kitchen table, cellphone in his hands. He stared down at the little screen, thinking. He needed to talk to Dean.

He typed out a quick text. 

**Hello Dean. Would you like to have lunch with me today? I know it’s short notice, so no hard feelings if you have already eaten.**

He went to set the phone down but it chimed immediately. 

**Dean W.: Sure Cas. That would be great! Actually, I don’t normally eat lunch until closer to one. I like to make sure all the guys get lunch first, you know?**

Cas smiled at that. Another example of Dean being Dean. He wondered what he was like as a boss and decided he was probably strict about the important things but easy going too. 

He sent Dean the name of a sandwich place Balthazar had taken him to once and they agreed to meet at one. Cas headed upstairs to shower and change.


	6. Chapter 6

Dean nearly dropped his phone when he saw the text from Cas. He quickly replied in the affirmative. He hadn’t been able to get Cas out of his mind since their date – a fact that was not helped by seeing Cas in his running attire every morning. He could admit to himself that he had taken more than one long shower imagining peeling that tank top off Cas’ torso and getting all of that lovely tan skin into his mouth. It wasn’t just sex though. They had texted a little (apparently Cas wasn’t a big fan – a fact that Dean found laughable given that Cas was a writer), and Cas was just as interesting as Dean had originally thought. He had this deadpan sense of humor most of the time, the kind that you could miss if you weren’t looking for it and surprisingly quirky interests. He liked bees and old horror movies and the color orange – although he didn’t wear it and only used it sparingly in his house. 

He and Sam had been arguing about dating etiquette for three days now. Dean wanted to text Cas the next morning to ask him out again. Maybe they could go to a bar for a few drinks and a little dancing or do something dumb like mini golfing – he had good success with that in the past. Sam was adamant that he needed to wait though. He kept telling Dean he was being too eager and that he would scare the guy away if he didn’t just chill. 

And now Cas had texted him asking him to lunch and throwing Sam’s whole argument out the window. 

He couldn’t wait to rub it in Sam’s face this evening. Hell, he might just text him after lunch. As soon as the thought crossed his mind, he frowned. He was grateful every day that he could still see Sam, hang out with him, take his stupid dating advice, but it was hard too. Sam couldn’t leave the house (they had figured that out through trial and error in the beginning), he couldn’t text or talk on a phone. Even with all that he had, Dean still felt a sense of loss when he was reminded of this stuff. Sam would never grow up. He would never finish his degree or marry Jess or have kids. He would never meet Cas, or anyone Dean was involved with for that matter. Even if he could see them and know them indirectly, they would never be able to have a conversation. His heart felt heavy in his chest. He took a deep breath, wiping his hands on a shop towel before yelling to the guys that he was taking ten. He closed himself in his office and laid his head on the desk. 

****  
They arrived at the sandwich place at almost the same time. Dean chuckled again when he saw Cas climbing out of his ridiculous car – the thing was gold for god’s sake! Cas looked good though, in dark washed jeans paired with a deep blue button up, the sleeves rolled to his elbows. Dean looked down at his own rumpled t shirt and jeans with oil spots on them, feeling a little self-conscious. He rummaged in the backseat, finding a mostly clean plaid flannel and pulling it on. He buttoned it halfway and rolled the sleeves. He couldn’t do anything about the jeans but he felt a little more presentable. 

“Hey Cas.” 

“Hello Dean.” Cas said, his face breaking into a smile. Dean smiled back feeling a burst of warmth in his chest. Cas’ smile was fast becoming one of his favorite things. . 

“Ready to eat?” 

“Yes, I’m starving. I was working in the yard this morning.” Cas replied as he held open the door. His hand came out to softly caress Dean’s lower back as he followed him through the door. Dean felt a tingle up his spine at the touch. 

They ordered sandwiches and sat in one of the vinyl booths away from the sunshine pouring in the shop’s front window. 

“Working on the yard, huh? Did you try the PH kit?” 

Cas’ face dropped a little and then he shook his head. “Not yet. I bought it, even read the directions, but I got distracted by a phone call and never went back to it.” He said, adding a packet of raw sugar to his unsweetened tea. His tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he stirred, tasted, and stirred again. “I worked in the backyard this morning. I’m planting a bee garden.” 

“What’s a bee garden?” Dean said. He took a long drink of his coke, relishing the cool liquid. Even though they were out of the sun, the shop was still a little warm. Probably from the ovens he thought. 

“It’s a garden designed to attract and help the bees. It gives them a safe place to eat and drink and they help the plants by spreading the pollen around. I’m using all native plants, so I hope it will do well.” 

Dean nodded. He wondered if his yard was bee friendly. He had some flowers out back in planters but he had picked them because they looked nice and he liked the colors. 

Their sandwiches arrived and they both tucked into them quietly. Cas really was hungry, Dean noted, he didn’t even set his sandwich down to take a drink – just switched hands. He chuckled, thinking it was pretty cute, and Cas looked up. 

“You’re cute.” He said, glad that Sam wasn’t here to call him a thirteen year old girl. 

Cas blushed a little but didn’t put his sandwich down either. Dean grinned and dove back into his. This place had great roast beef. 

When he finished his sandwich, Cas wiped his mouth carefully with a napkin and then folded the paper wrapper up into a neat square. Dean watched him curiously but didn’t say anything. 

“Do you believe in ghosts?” Cas said, taking a long sip of his tea. Dean startled a little at the odd question and crunched on a chip. 

“Not sure I’ve ever thought about it.” He said. That was a safe answer, right? He felt his heart pick up a bit, wondering where this conversation was going. 

“Hmm. I’m working on my new book, like I said, and I think I’m going to have the brothers get help from the ghost of their father. I know its cliché but that’s what people like” he said with an eye roll, “I’ve done a fair amount of research on ghosts over the years and it’s pretty fascinating. The books say that ghosts are spirits that either have unfinished business or have died violently. Sometimes they just don’t know or won’t accept that they are dead.”

He took another drink, his blue eyes fixed on Dean. For a moment Dean felt like Cas could see into his mind. He broke the eye contact, crumpling up his own sandwich wrapper and shoving it into his chip bag. 

“Most people don’t even realize they have a ghost, not for a while anyway. The earliest signs of a haunting are usually flickering lights and cold spots. Have you ever noticed anything like that?” 

Dean took a deep drink of his coke, tipping the paper cup back to suck an ice cube into his mouth. He crunched it between his teeth as he tried to stay calm. His heart was hammering against his ribs and a small part of him worried that Cas could tell. 

“Weird.” He said, swallowing the ice chips, “Not that I know of. But I guess flickering lights and cold spots wouldn’t be hard to ignore or forget.” He shrugged, “What do you think Cas, do you believe in ghosts?” 

Cas studied him, his blue eyes looking even bluer than usual thanks to the color of his shirt. “As much as anybody, I guess.” He said. “It’s hard not to believe at least a little when you’ve read the things I have. Some of the first-hand accounts are hard to write off.” 

Dean nodded at that, feeling his heart leap a little for a different reason. He couldn’t help but wonder if Cas would believe him. If he spilled his guts right now, let the whole story pour out onto this tiny scratched table, would Cas run away or keep looking at him with those bright eyes? 

The words were on the tip of his tongue but he swallowed and pushed them down. It was only their second date and he barely knew the guy. He had to keep living in this town, in the house next door, and if things went south he didn’t think he could handle it. 

Cas took another long drink of his tea. “Sorry if that was strange. I guess I got caught up in my train of thought.” He was staring at him again and Dean had a hard time not returning the gesture. “Enough of that, tell me about your day.” 

Dean felt a small pang of regret. Maybe he should have kept Cas talking and felt the situation out more? Well, he told himself, thanks to Cas’ books he could probably bring the subject up again without arousing too much suspicion. That would have to do. 

He took a deep, steadying breath, refocusing on the conversation. 

“A guy called today, wants me to go out to his house tomorrow and give him an estimate on restoring his 1969 Shelby Mustang. He said the body is in good condition, it’s mostly the interior and the engine that need work. Well, and a new paint job. He wants to paint her cherry red.” He smiled at Cas, who was still watching him intensely. For a guy who professed to not know very much about cars, he was giving Dean his undivided attention and didn’t look bored in the least. “It’s a beautiful car, Cas, and I’ve never gotten to work on one. I mean, the money will be great, but I really want the job just so I can get my hands on her. You know?” 

Cas’ eyes flicked down to Deans hands and his felt his face flush a little when he noticed he was miming running his hands along the lines of the car. He dropped them to the tabletop. 

“Don’t stop on my account.” Cas said, that gravelly voice immediately doing things to Dean’s libido. 

Dean shook his head, chuckling softly, and shifting in his seat. “You’re a troublemaker, you know?”

Cas’ head cocked to the side and Dean couldn’t help the smile that crossed his face. The guy was adorable. 

“I believe you started it.” 

“Yeah well,” he huffed. He didn’t really have an answer for that. He glanced at his watch and then back at Cas. “I should be getting back soon.” He grinned, “You wanna walk me to my car?” 

***  
“Thank you for coming out with me, Dean. I know it was short notice.” Cas said as they reached the Impala. He squeezed Dean’s hand, their fingers linked together. His palm was soft and warm against Dean’s own. 

He tugged gently at their joined hands and Cas took a step towards him, closing the distance. 

“I had a great time, Cas. Thanks for the invite.” 

He lifted his free hand, cupping Cas’ jaw and catching his eyes. Cas let out a soft breath and leaned in. Their lips met, Cas’ body pressed forward and pushed Dean’s against the car door. Dean chuckled into the kiss, trailing his hand back to tangle in Cas’ messy hair. He pulled him in closer. His body was warm and strong, a solid presence against him. His mind swam with images of Cas holding him down, pinning him to a mattress or the backseat of his car. He could feel himself getting hard in his jeans, the pressure against his zipper quickly becoming uncomfortable. He moaned without meaning to and Cas echoed the sound, his hands were fisted in the hem of Dean’s shirt now, trying to pull him even closer. The hot, wet slide of their tongues and soft nips of Cas’ teeth against his bottom lip were enough to steal his breath away. After a few moments he pulled back, panting. 

Cas’ had a pink tinge to his cheeks, his eyes a darker blue than before. His breath was coming in short puffs from between his parted lips. 

“I wish I could stay longer. The guys were pretty busy when I left though, so I can’t bail on them.” He said, taking Cas’ hand in his again. Cas nodded, swallowing. “Not today anyway.” Dean added, winking. Cas’ lips turned up into a small smile. 

“Yes. Well, have a good rest of the day then, Dean.”

“You too, Cas.” He said. He lifted their joined hands, placing a soft kiss on Cas’ knuckles. He knew it was sappy but he didn’t care. Cas was wonderful and he wanted to make sure he knew. 

\-------

“Wait, why was he asking you about ghosts?” Sam said. He pushed the hair off his face, tucking it behind his ear. Dean smiled at the small gesture. 

“He was talking about his book, or thinking about it, and just brought it up.”

“Ooooh!” Sam’s eyes lit up, “Did he say what else was happening in the new book? Any spoilers?” 

Dean rolled his eyes. Sam had been trying to get him to fish for information about Cas’ new book ever since he had let slip that Cas was Carver Edlund. The squeal Sam let out when he heard the news could rival any teenage boy-band groupie. 

“I dunno, man. Maybe? Something about the dad.” He huffed out a breath, feeling frustrated, “That’s not the important part, Sam! He said he believes in ghosts or that he could believe in them.”

Sam shrugged. “That’s great, Dean. But there is a lot of difference between believing in something in theory and believing in something for real. Be careful, is all I’m sayin’. I know you like the guy and all but you don’t really know him that well and we still have to live here.” He sighed, casting his eyes downward, “Well I have to anyway. If he decides you’re crazy or something that could make your life really hard. I don’t want to be the thing that messes up what you’ve got here, you know?” He looked up again, meeting Dean’s eyes for a moment before turning his gaze outside. 

“Sammy, listen to me. I know I have to be careful, I know that. I just got excited is all. I never thought I’d find someone who might actually believe this stuff and it’s nice to know that might be possible. Even if it isn’t Cas.” He stared at his brother’s profile and noticed again how the light didn’t bounce off of him the same way it did everything else in the room. It was one of the few things that made him seem less real. “I’m not going to mess things up for us here. And I know what you’re thinking, that if things get bad I could always move away but that’s just not true Sam. If you’re still in this house, then I’m still in this house. Even if our next door neighbor thinks I’m a crazy person and tells everyone in the neighborhood – I won’t leave you Sammy. I promise. OK?”

“OK, Dean.” Sam’s voice was quiet and before Dean could respond, he disappeared.


	7. Chapter 7

Dean’s plan had been simple – take Cas to a scary movie so that on the way home he could bring up the topic of ghosts again. 

Now, pressed against the back seat with Cas’ thigh slotted between his legs and his hot, insistent mouth on Dean’s throat, he wasn’t sure how he’d gotten off track. 

He had chosen seats in the back row, just in case Cas was up for some low-key PDA. Even if they were both in their thirties, there was still something to be said for the classics. 

The movie was dumb and didn’t hold their attention for long. Cas made the first move, pushing the arm rest up between them and scooting over so that their thighs touched. He leaned over, kissing and nibbling Dean’s neck, behind his ear, and across the hinge of his jaw. Dean tried to play it off, to draw it out, but Cas was so close, his palm dragging a warm trail up the front of Dean’s t shirt, Dean couldn’t hold out very long. 

They made out the rest of the movie in that awkward way people do when trapped in plastic chairs with very little room to move. Cas slipped one hand under Dean’s shirt, rubbing the pad of his thumb across one of his nipples. Dean moaned into his mouth, louder than he meant to, and someone shushed him. They both laughed, their foreheads pressed together, and Cas whispered an apology. 

After the movie, Dean was so keyed up he was sure everyone around him could tell. He didn’t have to look in a mirror to know that his face was flushed and his hair was probably a mess, Cas’ certainly was. Dean smiled at it, knowing that it was his fingers that had made it look that way. 

They walked hand in hand to the impala and as soon as the doors shut Cas’ hand was trailing up his thigh. 

“Find somewhere for us to park, Dean.” He said, his voice rougher than usual. Dean groaned, starting the car and heading out of the parking lot. 

They found a secluded spot at a park nearby and both scrambled into the back seat. 

“You know we both have homes and beds.” Dean said between kisses. 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” Cas said, nipping at his bottom lip. 

Cas had pulled his shirt over his head, rucking Dean’s up and helping him remove it shortly after. He pressed Dean back against the seat, one perfectly toned thigh slotting between Dean’s legs. Dean groaned and rolled his hips up, the friction of his boxers and now too-tight jeans zinging through him. Cas’ mouth trailed hot kisses down his throat, sucking at his adam’s apple and his pulse point. 

Dean wrapped his hands around Cas’ hips, rolling his own again. He could feel the hard line of Cas’ cock against his hip and he moaned at the sensation. Cas’ hands trailed up and down his torso, his fingers spreading wide to touch every part of him. He pressed his thumbs against his nipples again, rubbing in small circles, making Dean squirm under him. It was all too much. 

Dean cupped Cas’ face, pulling him back up into a kiss. He loved the scrape of Cas’ stubble against his skin, the softness of his lips, and the way he dominated every kiss. His tongue was insistent, licking into Dean’s mouth, and sliding against his own. 

Dean’s hands fumbled with Cas’ jeans, getting the button and zipper finally and he reached inside, palming Cas’ cock through the fabric of his briefs. Cas groaned, his eyes fluttering shut. Dean squeezed the length of him, stroking over the fabric, hoping that the dry drag of it felt as good to Cas as it did to him. 

Cas reached between them and managed to undo Dean’s jeans as well, shoving at them until Dean lifted his hips. He pushed them down below the curve of his ass, Dean’s cock bobbing free against his stomach, and Dean hissed at the sudden exposure. Cas made a point of looking down before grinning up at him. 

He wrapped a hand around Dean’s cock, giving it a few loose strokes before palming the head and collecting the precome there to ease the slide. Dean bit his bottom lip, tilting his head back at the first touch of Cas’ lithe fingers. His palm was soft and so much different from Dean’s own. Cas’ strokes were long and languid, more of a tease than anything. 

Dean took a deep breath, trying to clear his head, and pushed at the waistband of Cas’ briefs. Cas was still stroking Dean, kissing up his neck and across his collarbones but he stopped to mutter a curse when Dean’s hand finally wrapped around him. He was wet, wetter than Dean anyway, and Dean felt his insides twist at the thought of tasting him. Not right now, not today, but soon he vowed. 

The interior of the car was hot, a sheen of sweat breaking out on both of them now. Cas tightened his fist, increasing his speed, and Dean felt lightheaded. He felt heat pool low in his belly, the tell-tale tingling up his spine, and he groaned. 

“Just like that sweetheart, so close.”

Their mouths caught again, Cas using more teeth and tongue now. He sucked on Dean’s bottom lip while twisting his wrist on the upstroke and finding all those sensitive places under the head. Cas leaned close to his ear, his breath coming in soft puffs against it. 

“Are you going to come for me, Dean? Come all over my fist right here in your car?” 

Dean let out a helpless whine, feeling the heat in his belly spill over, his back arching off the seat as he came between them. Cas gasped, his hips bucking forward and fucking into Dean’s fist even as he finished stroking Dean. Dean held his fist tight, matching Cas’ strokes as his hips continued to press forward. 

“That’s it, Cas. Come on baby. You’re so fucking hot. Let go, Cas, let go.”

Cas groaned again, his hips stuttering as he found his release. Dean stroked him through it, watching greedily as Cas’ come spilled over his fingers and onto his stomach. 

For a moment he thought Cas would collapse on top of him but at the last second he turned his body and slid down against the seat back. Dean moved over to give him room, his body hanging partially off the seat. He was hot, sticky, out of breath, and elated. 

He didn’t remember the ghost conversation until he was walking back up his driveway after seeing Cas to his front door – and a few more brain melting kisses.


	8. Chapter 8

Now that he knew Sam was there, Cas saw him a lot more often. He caught glimpses of his face in the attic window throughout the day and on more than one occasion saw him standing in the front window, leaning against the frame and staring out into the street. Cas could feel his eyes on him as he ran by in the mornings. 

He wondered why Sam was still around. Did he know he was dead? Cas hoped so. Trying to convince someone that they were gone was difficult and emotionally draining for everyone involved. A lot of the time, it wasn’t successful either. Could he have unfinished business? Cas knew Sam had intended on marrying the girl he was dating but that wasn’t usually the sort of thing that would keep someone around. He didn’t know enough about Sam to figure it out on his own, he resigned. 

Dean invited him to the house a few times and each time he would see Sam out of the corner of his eye, turning into the next room or cresting the top of the stairs. The closest he had gotten to Sam was when Dean invited him over for a movie night, which had turned into three consecutive movie nights as they watched the original Star Wars trilogy. Apparently having only seen one of the prequels (Gabriel dragged him to it because he thought Natalie Portman was hot) was a travesty and Dean refused to date him for one more moment until it was rectified. While the movies played, Sam sat in one of the kitchen chairs, his face balanced in his hands, eyes wide. Cas caught himself smiling at the sight and at the fact that Dean was no better. Cas kept getting distracted watching the way Dean’s face lit up, his mouth shaping the dialogue along with the characters on screen as he totally immersed himself in the films. It was sweet and made Cas’ heart flutter in his chest. The lamp next to the couch flickered a few times and Dean would glance over at it, his eyebrows pinched, before shrugging in Cas’ direction.   
Cas felt for him. Even if he hadn’t been slowly falling for the guy (maybe not so slowly) he would still have felt bad knowing that his brother was just five feet away and yet separated by so much. He wished there was a way to let the two of them talk, to say goodbye. He debated with himself again about the possibility of telling Dean what was going on.   
\-------  
Tonight, Dean had invited him over for dinner. He knocked on Dean’s front door, his fingers tapping idly on the wine bottle he’d brought. The porch light flickered once as the door opened. 

“Cas!” Dean said, sounding excited as always. 

They hugged and over Dean’s shoulder Cas saw Sam’s large form turning into the hallway at the top of the stairs. 

“Hello, Dean.” He said as he passed the wine bottle over to him. 

“Thanks, babe.” Dean said, looking at the label, “This is perfect. I made lasagna and yes, it has more than two cheeses in it.” Dean smiled at him, teasing. They made their way into the kitchen, crossing through the living room where the stereo was playing softly. 

“More cheese never hurt anybody, Dean. It’s one of the few things Balthazar and all of his decadence has taught me.” 

“I think most cardiologists would disagree with the two of you, but what do I know?” he said with a wink. 

Cas breathed in deeply, the scent of garlic and tomatoes heavy in the air. His mouth watered. “It smells amazing. Thank you.” He said, leaning in to place a soft kiss on Dean’s mouth. 

Dean rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, “It’s just noodles and sauce, Cas.” The flush on his cheeks made his freckles stand out and like always, Cas felt charmed by it. 

“Yes, and more than two cheeses.” He said, stepping close again. He let his eyes flick down to Dean’s mouth before connecting with his emerald green irises. He stayed still, his breath mingling with Dean’s until Dean groaned and closed the distance. He smiled around the kiss as Dean backed him against the kitchen counter, one hand trailing up his side. They kissed until the timer on the oven beeped and even then, Cas had to push Dean away. 

“Dinner, Dean.” 

Dean nodded, looking a little glassy-eyed and pulled on a pair of oven mitts. 

****

The lasagna was delicious and had obviously taken some work, no matter how humble Dean was about it. After dinner they curled up on the couch with their wine glasses. Cas leaned back against the arm rest of the couch, while Dean fit his body into the space between Cas’ legs, his head resting on Cas’ shoulder, his back a solid wall of warmth against Cas’ chest. Cas ran his fingers through Dean’s hair, loving the way Dean relaxed against him. They talked about nothing and everything as the night went on. 

Cas admitted that he had had an unhealthy obsession with Freddie Mercury in college and blamed it, rightly so, on Gabriel’s influence. Dean told him that when they were kids he shoved Legos into the vents of the impala and Sam wedged an army man into the ashtray in the back. He admitted that when he rebuilt her, he had put them all back in place. Cas kissed the top of his head, smiling softly. 

“When the heat is running, you can hear the Legos rattling around in there.” He said, looking up at Cas, “You just wait, you’ll see.” 

Cas’ heart leapt at that. Sure, winter wasn’t that far off now but it still felt nice that Dean was so casually certain that they would be together in a few months. 

“I can’t wait.” He said, hunching forward to give Dean an upside down kiss. Dean chuckled and huffed a breath, leaning his neck up to meet Cas’ mouth. After a few awkward kisses, Dean rolled over, his hands braced on either side of Cas’ hips, and one knee tucked up between his legs. 

He kissed Cas again, a full press of lips this time, their tongues slipping against one another. Dean’s body was balanced above his, their only connection at their mouths, and Cas could feel the heat radiating off of him. He wanted to arch up into it, to close the space between them, but he resisted, loving the tease just as much. After a few moments, Dean pulled back panting softly. 

“Stay with me tonight?” He said, his eyes dark and fastened firmly onto Cas’. 

Cas nodded. 

****

Cas woke up suddenly and was disoriented for a moment. Eventually his eyes adjusted and he could see Dean’s sleeping form next to him. He was on his stomach, his naked shoulders and back bare, the sheet pushed down around his waist. When they fell asleep they had been wrapped up in one another but Cas guessed that Dean had gotten hot at some point in the night. He ran a hand across one cool shoulder, leaning down to press his lips to the freckled skin. 

He climbed out of bed, finding a pair of boxers on the ground and slipping them on. By the way the waist hung a little loosely on his hip bones he guessed that they were Dean’s and felt a little thrill at the thought. He walked quietly into the hall, trailing his fingers along the wall to help find his way in the dark. He could see a glow at the top of the staircase, and as he turned the corner he noted it was from the lamp by the couch. 

That’s when he noticed the familiar figure stretched out in the armchair, a book laying open on the armrest. Cas debated turning around or going forward. He had wanted to talk to Sam alone but this wasn’t the right time! He fumbled with indecision for a few more moments, unsure whether he should just turn around or walk right by him. 

“Cas? Baby, is everything ok?” he heard Dean’s sleepy voice call softly down the hall. 

Sam’s head snapped up and their eyes met. A look of recognition passed over the younger man’s face, his eyebrows raising slowly. 

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “You need something?” he said, his arms wrapping around Cas’ waist from behind. 

“I woke up for some reason. I was just going to the kitchen for water.” Cas managed to say. He had torn his eyes away from Sam as soon as Dean touched him but he could still feel him watching. 

“Go back to bed, babe. I’ll bring it to you. Looks like I left the light on downstairs anyway.” Dean said. He pressed a kiss to the side of Cas’ neck. Cas smiled at him, nodding, and mumbled his thanks before heading back down the hallway. 

He climbed between the sheets and stared up at the ceiling fan as it turned, casting soft shadows. 

Sam knew. 

He needed to find a way to talk to him, especially now.


	9. Chapter 9

He listened carefully, waiting for the click of the lock. When he heard it, the tiny sound ringing loudly in his ears, he let out the breath he had been holding. He shoved his tools back in their hot pink case, rolling his eyes at it again.

The lock-picking kit had been a Christmas gift from Gabriel years ago and he sent up a small prayer of thanks to his brother now. He’d have to thank him again in person once all of this was over. 

The backdoor opened with a soft swish. Cas paused on the threshold, debating the intelligence of his plan again. He knew Dean was at work, and he knew what time he took lunch – even though he didn’t usually come home – so he felt fairly certain that he had at least a few hours before he needed to be on his way. It was still breaking and entering though, not to mention a betrayal of Dean’s trust. He reminded himself this was in the interest of helping Sam, and thereby helping Dean. 

He came inside, shutting the door behind him, and swung the backpack off his shoulder, leaving it on the kitchen table. The backpack held the candles, herbs, and other items he would need if Sam wanted to do the ritual with him. He hoped Sam would be one of those spirits who just needed a little guidance. 

Standing in the living room, he took a deep, calming breath. 

“Hello? Sam Winchester?” he called. 

He waited, unconsciously holding his breath as he listened for a reply, his eyes scanning the room. . 

“Sam, I was hoping we could talk.” he called again, angling his head towards the stairs. He had seen Sam in the attic window several times, and he knew that spirits were sometimes drawn to the place that they died, so squaring his shoulders, he headed up. 

He stopped outside of Dean’s room, peeking in the open door and smiling fondly. The bed was a mess of sheets and pillows, while boxers, socks, and a pair of jeans made a trail from the bed to the closet. Cas shook his head, the smile still on his face. 

Taking strength from Dean’s messy room, he called out again. 

“Sam, it’s Castiel. I was hoping we could talk.” 

He stared down the hall. His eyes were naturally drawn upward to the hatch in the ceiling. The attic. A small ring was embedded in the door, probably to use as a handle for the pull down stairs. He took a step towards it. 

“It won’t open. Dean nailed it shut.” A voice said. Cas jumped, startled by the sudden break in the quiet, and turned. 

Sam was standing a few feet away, watching him with confused hazel eyes. His long hair was pushed behind his ears, a few strands hanging loose in front of his face. He was wearing a worn t-shirt, sweatpants, and socks like always – the outfit he died in, Cas’ mind supplied. 

“Hello Sam. I’m Castiel Novak.” He said. He resisted the urge to put his hand out knowing that most spirits had a hard time manifesting enough to be able to touch someone. “Dean’s told me a lot about you. Do you think we could talk?” 

Sam stared at him another moment before running a hand through his hair. “Uh yeah, I guess. I just –“ he paused, catching Cas’ eyes again, “how the _hell_ can you see me?” 

Cas chuckled a little, hoping to help with the tension. “Why don’t we go downstairs and sit and I’ll tell you everything. Ok?” 

Sam nodded and then promptly disappeared. 

Cas sucked in a breath. No matter how many times he’d seen it before, it was still unnerving to watch someone just pop out of existence. 

When he got downstairs, Sam was sitting at the kitchen table, his knee bouncing with nervous energy, the dappled sunlight streaming through him in that odd way that happened with ghosts. 

He took the chair across from Sam, looking around for a moment. The kitchen still felt homey, Cas could see little traces of Dean everywhere and it made him smile. 

“It’s nice to meet you. Dean speaks very highly of you and I’ve been hoping for some time now that we would get the chance to talk.” He said. 

Sam fidgeted in his chair. “Yeah Cas, same here. I never thought we would get to talk though! How is this” he motioned between the two of them, “even possible?” 

“Before I tell you that, I need to ask you something. Sam, do you know what happened to you four years ago?” 

Sam sat up straight, his height impressive even sitting down, and ran a hand through his hair before letting it fall down to rub at the back of his neck. The gesture was so much like Dean that Cas felt a little twist in his chest when he saw it.

“Yeah. Four years ago, I, uh, I died.” He said softly. 

Good, Cas thought feeling relief wash through him. “That’s right, Sam. I just needed to make sure you knew that. Not all spirits do.” 

Sam nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ve read your books.” He ducked his head a little. Cas smiled. 

“Yes, Dean told me you were a fan. Thank you, for reading them by the way.” Sam nodded at him, his eyes lifting once more. “Now to answer your original question, I’ve been able to see ghosts, spirits, whatever you want to call them, since I was in middle school. I’ve never been able to figure out why, one day I just could.” He shrugged. 

Sam’s eyes were wide. “Really? Wow. That must have been freaky. I’m still weirded out by all of this ghost stuff and I’m the one who’s a ghost.” He chuckled. It was a small sound but it made Cas happy to hear it. 

“Yes. It’s been trying at times and in the early days it could be very scary. When I got a little older, I met a woman who taught me how to control it some, which made life easier. She also taught me how to help, when I can. That knowledge has been a blessing to me.” 

Sam was still watching him closely. “She taught you to help how?” 

Now they were getting to it. The look on Sam’s face was promising. He seemed more curious than anxious or afraid. Castiel could work with that. 

“She taught me certain rituals that I can perform to help a spirit move on. Spirits are not supposed to be here, on this plane with us, and it wears on them. The ritual helps them find peace.” 

Sam swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing softly. “How, uh, how do you know that?” 

“Pamela, the women who taught me, she was able to speak to the spirits even after they moved on. I witnessed it on several occasions and each time the spirits assured us that they were at rest.”

Sam nodded, looking down at his hands. “Is that why you’re here, Cas?” 

Cas nodded. “Yes, Sam. I know how important you are to Dean, how special your relationship was,” he saw Sam flinch a little at his words, “and when I saw you here, I-“ he trailed off, trying to put his thoughts together. “I knew I had to try and help you. I couldn’t live with myself, knowing you were over here, if I didn’t at least try.” 

Sam nodded again, not speaking. They sat in silence for a few minutes. 

“Does it hurt?” His voice was small and Cas could almost imagine the little boy he once was.

“No.” Cas said, his voice level and soothing, “I’ve been told it’s like falling asleep. The ritual is performed by burning some herbs and reciting a few incantations or prayers, if you will.” 

Sam looked out into the backyard. He was so young, only twenty one when he died, and it made Cas feel a pang of regret for the life he would never have. 

“You don’t have to decide now. We can just talk for a while or I could come back another time.” He hoped Sam wouldn’t suggest the latter as he was unsure whether he could really do this again. 

“Let’s talk. It’s been so long since I’ve had anyone else to talk to,” he said, his voice trailing off. He looked deep in thought for a moment before catching Cas’ eyes. “Can you tell me about the new book?” 

Cas chuckled, “Sure. What do you want to know?”

They talked about the book for what seemed like hours. Cas didn’t hold anything back, hoping that Sam wouldn’t be around when it came out anyway. If he was though, Cas resolved to bring a copy over and leave it somewhere for him. Sam looked relaxed, slumped down in his chair, his long legs stretched out under the table. Cas had seen his dimples on a number of occasions and decided they were one of his best features. The conversation moved to other topics; music, books, politics, and religion. Sam was very knowledgeable, even for someone who was mostly out of touch with the world for the last four years. 

In another life, Cas could see them becoming close friends. 

When the conversation hit a comfortable lull, Cas decide to get back to his original purpose. 

“Can I ask you another question? It might be difficult to answer.” He began. Sam smiled again, waving a hand signaling for Cas to continue. “Do you know why you’re still here?” 

Sam’s face fell and it hurt Cas to see it. He knew he needed to ask the question though. If Sam had unfinished business the ritual might not work until he resolved it. 

“Maybe.” Sam said. “I’m not sure.”

“Can you tell me what you remember?” 

Sam shifted his gaze out the window. Cas waited. 

“I remember the attic and looking for a box. It’s sort of fuzzy and far away but I think I fell. The next thing I remember is being in my room and not knowing how I got there. Dean was sitting on the bed, a bottle of whiskey in his hand. He was drunk and I could tell he’d been crying. He started talking to me, telling me he was sorry and that he missed me.” Sam’s voice caught on the words. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I told him it was ok, that it wasn’t his fault.” 

Cas felt his heart wrench inside. Dean blamed himself for Sam’s death, a fact which made no logical sense but knowing Dean, was not surprising. Cas couldn’t imagine carrying that kind of weight with him every day. He wanted to hug Dean tight, curl up around him and comfort him. He wanted to keep him safe from the outside world as well as protect him from himself. 

Sam cleared his throat one more time and faced Cas again. “Why haven’t you ever told Dean about talking to ghosts?” 

Cas’ mind stuttered for a moment, so wrapped up in the story that the sudden shift gave him pause. 

“I’ll be honest with you, Sam. I really like your brother. I believe I’m falling in love with him actually.” He ducked his head, feeling his cheeks warm at the admission. “I’ve kept that part of myself a secret because I’m afraid of losing him. It’s not something that’s easy for other people to accept. The only person in my life who knows about my ability is my brother, Gabriel. He was there in the beginning and I don’t know how I would have made it without him.” 

Sam studied his face, his eyebrows pinched together in concentration. 

“Ok. I shouldn’t be the one telling you this but-“ he trailed off, “Dean, uh, Dean can see me too.”


	10. Chapter 10

Dean smiled as he pulled into his driveway, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel. Cas had texted him a few hours back asking if he was free tonight and the prospect of seeing his boyfriend had put a skip in his step ever since. He grabbed his lunch bag and coffee thermos and headed inside. 

“Hey Sammy, you might have to make yourself scarce tonight.” He called out as he stepped inside the door. He dropped his keys in the bowl and kicked off his boots. “Sammy?” he said, heading to the kitchen. 

“Hello Dean.” 

Dean stopped in the doorway, the voice drawing his attention to Cas sitting at the kitchen table. He wondered if Cas had heard him and felt his pulse pick up at the thought. How would he explain calling to his dead brother when he came home? Act normal, he told himself, maybe he’ll just think he misheard or you were on the phone or something. 

“Hey Cas, what’s up?” he said as he moved to set his thermos in the sink and his bag on the counter. “Everything ok? How’d you get in here?” Too many questions! He admonished himself. 

Cas looked a bit sheepish, his gaze dropping to his hands which were clasped together on the tabletop. 

“Come sit with me Dean. I need to talk to you.” Cas said, his eyes drifted up to meet Dean’s again and he added, “Please.”

Was this a breakup? Dean’s heart fell and his stomach lurched. He really liked Cas, might even love the guy, and he couldn’t imagine what he’d done to make Cas want to break up with him. 

“I’m sorry, Cas” he said as he took a seat next to him. 

Cas tilted his head to the side a little in that way of his and Dean felt another hard thump of his heart. 

“I don’t know why you’re apologizing. It’s not something bad,” he said, still watching Dean closely, “at least I don’t think so.” 

Dean felt a little better but still wary. “Ok Cas, enough with the suspense then. You’re killing me, man.” 

Cas looked down again, lacing his fingers together and pulling them apart. Dean reached over and slipped his hand between Cas’. They were warm and soft, like always, and Dean felt comforted by the touch. 

“I have to tell you something about me, something that until earlier today, I wasn’t sure I would ever tell you.” 

Dean felt his eyebrows knit together. “Ok” he said, still clasping Cas’ hand. 

“When I was in middle school,“ Cas took a deep breath, “I started seeing ghosts.” 

Dean’s mind went blank for a moment, the information taking longer than normal to process. Had Cas just said that? He could see them too?

“What?” 

Cas looked up at him, his blue eyes large and full of something, hope maybe? He nodded. “Spirits of those who have died, Dean. I can see and interact with them. I was afraid to tell you because I didn’t want you to think I was crazy.” 

Dean felt crazy. How was this possible? He had hoped that Cas would understand the thing between him and Sammy, sure, but he’d never dared to hope for this. 

Oh, shit. Sammy. 

“What happened earlier today, Cas? That made you want to tell me.” 

He held his breath. Their eyes were still locked on one another, the stare unwavering on either side. 

“I spoke with Sam.” 

Dean didn’t know what to say. He cleared his throat. “I can’t believe this, Cas.” He held Cas’ hand tighter, winding their fingers together and squeezing them. “I never thought – I mean, I thought about telling you but I was worried too and – Shit, Cas. – How is this possible?” 

Cas laughed then, a small sound that made Dean’s heart feel like it would burst. He shook his head. “I don’t know Dean. To say I was surprised when Sam told me would be an understatement. I’ve only met a few people who have this gift over the years and I never even dreamed I would end up falling for one.” A pink tinge highlighted his cheeks and he ducked his head. 

Dean reached for Cas’ face, pulling himself closer with a loud squeak of the chair legs, and kissed him. The kiss was soft, chaste, but the warmth of Cas’ lips was soothing to him. They broke apart, foreheads resting together, knees knocking. Dean still had Cas’ cheeks in his palms, his stubble scratching lightly. 

“I can’t believe this Cas. You’re too good to be true. I just –“ he whispered. “God, I want to pinch myself to make sure this isn’t a dream.”

Cas laughed again, a breathy chuckle. Dean couldn’t help the grin that covered his face. 

“So you and Sammy, huh? What’d you think?”

Cas smiled and leaned back so that they were looking at one another again. His eyes were crystal blue and his lashes were damp as he took Dean’s hands in his, threading their fingers together. “He’s wonderful, just like you said. He is very smart, kind, funny, and charming. Apparently those traits run in your family.” 

“Don’t forget handsome.” Dean said, with a small wink, “We Winchesters are a good looking bunch.” 

Cas rolled his eyes fondly, “Yes, that too.” 

“Damn right we are.”

Dean turned his head and saw Sam standing in the kitchen doorway. His hair was messy, a sure sign he’d been nervously running his fingers through it. 

“Is it cool if I come in? I was trying to give you guys some time but..” he trailed off. 

Dean laughed. “Yeah, come here you big moose.” He said. 

They talked until it began to get dark outside. Sam and Cas filled him in on what they had chatted about during the day, which had Dean shaking his head. Sam gushed about Cas’ new book, grinning ear to ear and Dean felt a tightness in his chest watching him. Sam looked happier than he had in years. Cas admitted to breaking into the house and even showed Dean his lock picking kit. Dean guffawed at the neon pink case and handles, vowing that he needed to meet Gabriel sooner rather than later. He could tell Cas had been worried about his reaction, which was understandable. Under normal circumstances he would probably have been upset about a boyfriend breaking into his house for whatever reason but this was different and he understood Cas’ need for secrecy. 

When they eventually got hungry, Dean made some quick omelets for both of them. As they ate, he had Sam tell Cas more stories from when they were growing up. Sam told him about the time that Dean purposefully mixed a red shirt in with his laundry and Sam had had to wear pink socks for the rest of the year. He told him how Dean would cut class in high school but always be outside waiting to pick him up as soon as the bell rang. Sam talked about Dean making dinner every night when they were kids and how he learned to make their mom’s apple pie, just so that Sam could try it and have that small piece of her. 

Dean blushed, rubbing at the back of his neck. He had wanted Sam to tell funny stories, not this stuff, but he didn’t stop him either. He knew what a miracle it was that Sam and Cas were getting to talk at all and he didn’t want to do anything to ruin the moment. Cas squeezed his fingers, smiling at him, his eyes crinkling at the edges. When he looked up Sam was watching them, a serious expression on his face. 

*****

They sat in companionable silence for a while, Cas and Dean sipping their beers while Sam stared out into the backyard. Cas’ fingers were scratching through Dean’s hair, the sensation tingling down his spine, his arm a warm presence against his shoulders. He leaned into the touch, marveling at how content he felt, how happy. 

“There’s one more thing we need to talk about-“ Sam said. 

Dean jumped a little when his voice broke the silence. Cas’ hand fell to his neck, squeezing the muscle and rubbing small circles with his fingertips. 

“What’s up, Sammy?”

Sam sat in the chair again, looking down at his hands. “Cas and I talked about something else earlier and I’ve been thinking about it. He says he can help me move on, Dean, and I think I want him to.” His voice was quiet, almost hesitant. 

Dean stiffened in his chair. He felt Cas do the same, his hand dropping away from Dean’s neck. He turned to look at him. 

“Cas?” 

“I did offer that to him Dean. I came over here to speak to him and to help him, if I could.” He looked over at Sam then, who was watching them both intently. “I couldn’t live with myself knowing he was over here, if I could do something about it. That was before he told me about you though, before all of this-“ he motioned between the three of them. 

Dean moved away then, scooting his chair to the side so that he and Cas weren’t touching. He didn’t know what to think. At the movement, Cas’ face fell and it made Dean’s chest hurt. He knew Cas was just trying to do the right thing but still, this was his brother!

Dean looked over at Sam. His heart was pounding in his chest, his mind racing. His brother wanted to leave him? To actually die and move on? He thought back to those few months before Sam came back. He had nearly lost everything. He drank too much, slept too little, and cried all the time. It was one of the darkest periods of his life. 

“Sammy, why? Why would you want to do that?” he said, displeased by the broken sound of his voice, “You want to leave me?” 

Sam straightened up, his hazel eyes fixed on Dean. In a much stronger voice than before, he spoke. “It’s not like that, Dean, and you know it. This isn’t right. I’m not supposed to be here! I died! I died and something brought me back. I don’t regret it. I know you needed me, hell, I needed you too but now –“ 

He sent a significant look in Cas’ direction. Cas’ face was blank, though his hands were curled into fists on the tops of his thighs. 

“You have what you need, to live and to be happy, I think.” He paused, his face pleading with Dean as much as his words, “I’m tired and bored and I’m ready, Dean.”

Dean was shaking his head, his mind a chorus of _no no no no no_. 

“I haven’t been outside of this house in four years. I can’t talk to anyone except you – and now Cas. I don’t sleep, Dean. I am here, awake, all the time. Can you imagine what that’s like?”

“But Sam, you don’t know what comes after this! What if it’s worse?” His heart clenched painfully in his chest at the thought. He knew Sam was a good kid but he was no saint. What if all that bullshit they spouted in church was true? What if Sam ended up in purgatory or hell? Dean’s breath caught in his throat and a strangled gasp was all that came out. 

“Cas has spoken to other spirits who’ve moved on and they said its peaceful. It’s like being asleep.” His voice dropped again, emotion evident in the tone. 

He looked over at Cas. Cas had tears in his eyes as he watched the brothers. He nodded softly when Dean caught his eye. 

“It’s true. Nothing bad will happen to him. I wouldn’t have come over here if I thought for one second there was a chance of that. I wouldn’t, _couldn’t_ , do that to you or to him. He’s right Dean, spirits are not supposed to be on this plane with us. It’s unnatural and it wears on them over time. Interacting with you has helped but it won’t last forever. Eventually Sam will wear down and become less of himself until one day, you won’t even recognize him.”

Dean stood up then, his chair wobbling and left the room. He knew they needed to finish talking, that he was being childish, but he couldn’t help it. Almost without his conscious thought he made his way up the stairs and flopped down onto his bed, pulling his pillow in tight around his face. He breathed in shallow pants, his chest burning and eyes brimming with unshed tears. His head swam and spots danced on the backs of his eyelids. He needed to calm down, needed to get a grip. He held his breath for a count of ten and then released it slowly into the pillow. He took another breath, in through his nose, out through his mouth. Tears threatened to spill over his lashes and he didn’t try to hold them back. 

****

He didn’t know how much time had passed, only that he was tired, weary from crying and thinking too much. He heard footsteps down the hall that paused in the doorway. 

“Cas. Just come to bed. We’ll talk in the morning.” He said, not moving the pillow covering his face. He hoped Cas could hear him through it. 

Another long pause and then the footsteps came towards the bed, the soft click of the door echoing in the silent room. 

Cas crawled in behind him. He lay on his back, a few inches of space between them and Dean sighed. He groped blindly with one hand before grabbing onto Cas’ wrist and tugging him closer. Cas turned, finally pressing his body against Dean’s, back to chest, his arm draped around Dean’s middle. 

“I’m sorry,” Cas breathed the words against the back of Dean’s neck, tucking his head under the edge of the pillow to kiss him there. 

“It’s fine, Cas. Can we just sleep?” 

Cas kissed him again and nuzzled him softly before settling in.


	11. Chapter 11

When Cas woke up he rolled over sleepily and curled around Dean’s body, laying his head on the other man’s chest, his leg draped over Dean’s thighs. He kissed the tattoo over Dean’s heart and ran his fingers over his soft stomach. 

He wasn’t sure what would happen today, if anything. Part of him felt guilty about offering to help Sam but a larger part still thought it was the right thing to do. He knew they should have told Dean sooner in the evening but he had been distracted and he admitted to himself, a little scared. He hoped Dean would understand. 

When he had come to check on Dean last night, he had never thought he would ask him to stay but when he heard Dean’s voice, rough from crying, calling out to him from under the pillow – he couldn’t say no. It had taken everything in him not to pull Dean into his arms as soon as he got into bed but he knew Dean needed space when he was upset and he was prepared to give it to him. He had sent up a prayer to whatever entity ruled the universe when Dean pulled him in close. He kissed Dean’s neck, thanking whoever was listening for giving him this wonderful man. 

Now, with Dean’s warm, sleep relaxed body under him, he sent up the same prayer of thanks again. He asked for strength for himself as well as the brothers Winchester. He knew that no matter the outcome, this would be a difficult day for the both of them. 

He lay there thinking, planning, running a hand along Dean’s ribs and down across his stomach until Dean stirred. His hand came up to meet Cas’, stilling it, before bringing it to his lips. He kissed each knuckle, his eyes still closed, and then rolled onto his side, tucking his head into Cas’ shoulder. 

“Good morning Dean.” Cas said softly, laying kisses against the other man’s hair. 

Dean grunted and pulled him closer. They wound their legs together, Cas stroking one foot up Dean’s calf. 

“I’m sorry.” Cas said again, an echo of last night, and Dean made a non-committal noise. He tilted his head back, eyes bleary with sleep, and pressed a kiss to Cas’ mouth. 

“Not mad at you.” Dean said. His voice was still gruff with sleep and last night’s upset. 

“Doesn’t mean I’m not sorry.” Cas said, his voice quiet in the early morning atmosphere, “I know this is painful for you and I’m a part of it. For that, I’m sorry.” 

Dean nodded, nuzzling against his chest. “I can’t believe he wants to leave.”

Cas kissed his head again, running his fingers through his short hair. 

“I didn’t realize how unhappy he was. I guess I was just being selfish, but he’s my brother and I-“ he trailed off, tucking his head in again. Cas tightened his grip around Dean’s shoulder. 

“I know, Dean. I don’t think it’s selfish, especially if he never showed his true feelings. Honestly, I’m not sure he even realized it until yesterday. He thought this was his only option, so I’m guessing he just focused on the good parts.” He tilted Dean’s face up with one hand, catching his eyes. They were bright green in the soft morning light, the gold flecks in them standing out prominently. “Like getting to spend time with you.” He dropped another kiss onto Dean’s soft mouth. 

Dean huffed a breath against him before deepening the kiss, their tongues intertwining slick and hot. When he pulled away again, he groaned and curled up against Cas’ chest. 

“Ok so if you do this, what happens?” he said, his voice muffled against Cas’ skin, “Will he really be ok, Cas?”

“Yes. He really will be ok. At some point we could even go visit my friend Pamela, the one who taught me these things and see if she can contact him. If you want to, I mean.” 

Cas felt that same tightness in his chest. He hoped Dean would trust him with this, would trust his word. 

Dean nodded. “I guess we need to go talk to him then.” 

Sam wasn’t around when they went downstairs but Dean yelled for him as he made them each a mug of coffee. Sam appeared in the doorway, much like the night before. 

“Dean?” he said cautiously. He glanced over at Cas, who gave him a small smile. He hoped Sam had been ok last night after their conversation ended. He and Sam had stayed downstairs for a while but they both had been so shell-shocked that hadn’t really spoken. 

“Sit.” Dean said, pointing to a chair. He took a seat next to Cas again, passing him the blue mug with the tiny chip by the handle that he favored. He liked the little imperfection in this mug. 

Sam sat as instructed. 

“Ok. Talk to me, Sam. Are you sure about this? ‘Cause there is no coming back this time. Not for more than a few minutes anyway. I know Cas says you have to go eventually but you could still put it off for a while.” 

Cas resisted the urge to contradict him. Dean wasn’t completely wrong but Cas knew that if Sam got beyond a certain point, there would be no helping him. 

“Yeah, Dean. I’m sure.” Sam said. He looked over at Cas again. “I meant what I said last night. I’m tired of having to watch other people live their lives and not being able to live mine. You know?” He looked down at his hands, “I miss Jess. I miss my friends and school. Hell, I miss pizza and driving a car, going to the movies, taking a walk around the block.” He looked back up at Dean. 

Dean was watching him closely. He cleared his throat. “I didn’t know Sammy.” He said his voice quiet. 

Sam nodded sadly, “Yeah, I know. It’s ok. Nothing you could do about it anyway. I love you, Dean. You’re my big brother. You practically raised me, no offence to Bobby,” he said and both brothers chuckled a little, “but you don’t need me anymore.” 

Dean straightened in his chair, shifting uncomfortably and Cas reached out a hand to steady him. He rubbed small circles into Dean’s lower back. 

“I know it was hard last time but you’re in a better place now, man. You have the shop, which I know you love no matter how much you bitch about it. You’ve made friends again and now you have Cas too. And I’m not trying to rush you two into anything,” he laughed, “I’m just saying, you’re open to a relationship now. You’re healthy and stable and happy, Dean.” 

Dean flushed a little, glancing over at Cas, who was sure his complexion was of a similar hue. “Yeah Sammy, I guess I am.” 

“Exactly.” Dean nodded, lifting his mug to his lips and taking a long drink. When he set his mug down again, he turned to Cas. “Alright, so how’re we doing this?” 

****

Over an hour later and they were in the attic. Sam had suggested it before Cas could, saying that he had always felt drawn to it and the he had actually spent a lot of time up there. Dean had grumbled and cursed as he pulled the nails out of the door and then he still had to jimmy it open where it had warped a little over time. 

The attic was dusty, with boxes piled around the edges. The pieces of Sam’s bedroom set were stacked up in one corner. The window that faced Cas’ house let light in and it streamed across the rough floorboards. 

Cas started by drawing a large circle on the floor in chalk. 

“So Cas, I gotta ask. Does this make you a witch or what?” Dean said. His tone was trying to be playful but Cas could hear the uncomfortable edge in it.

“No. I’m not a witch.” He said, throwing a smile in Dean’s direction. “I believe in a higher power but not in any real religion per se. This ritual, and they few others I know, don’t take much more than a general faith.” 

He mumbled a few blessings as he finished the circle, asking for help from the powers that be. He took the bundles of dried herbs out of his backpack and set them in a row next to where he would be sitting. A few of them (sage, hawthorne, and mint) he grew in his own garden, but the rest he bought in stores or online. 

He lit three white candles, each at a separate point around the circle, and stood back. 

“You ready?”

The brothers were huddled together off to the side. They had spoken alone for a while before heading up here, so Cas was fairly certain they had already said their goodbyes. He and Sam had shared a few of their own as well. 

“Ready, bitch?” Dean said. 

Sam shook his head. “Ready as I’ll ever be” he said, and then added, “Jerk.” 

They both turned to Cas and nodded. 

“Ok then. Sam, if you’ll move into the circle please. You can sit or lay down, it’s up to you. It might feel a little strange but I assure you, that’s normal.”

Sam did as he was asked, stepping over the chalk line and sitting down on the floor. He held his hand up and looked at it, a small smile on his lips. “You’re right, it feels weird. Sort of tingly.”

Cas smiled.

“Dean, if you want to take a seat too, outside the circle please.” He said. 

Dean came forward slowly, eyes locked on Sam. He took a seat to Cas’ right, where he could still watch Sam’s face. 

Cas stooped to pick up a small wooden bowl and the first bundle of herbs. He touched the herbs to the candle closest to him. The dry bundle caught, smoking and smoldering. He stood and made his way around the circle, wafting the herbs so that the smoke traced his path but keeping the bundle above the bowl, catching the ash as it fell. It took two passes before the bundle was gone. 

The brothers were still watching one another. Cas could see strain in Dean’s tense shoulders but Sam looked looser. He knew that the herbs would have a calming effect on the spirit but he had hoped some of that would rub off on Dean as well. Apparently not. 

The next bundle was smaller and only took one pass around the circle to burn through. The air was hazy now, a strange mix of sweet and bitter smells, but not unpleasant. 

Sam’s face was relaxed, a soft smile on his lips. His hands lay in his lap, palms up, wrists loose. His shoulders curved in towards his knees. 

The third bundle was like the first and required two trips around the circle. 

Dean had a furrowed brow and worried expression. He glanced at Cas from time to time and when their eyes met, Cas tried to convey all of his feeling in a look. I love you. I’m here for you. It will be ok. 

The final pass was deliberately slow. Cas took measured steps, spreading the collected ash, and chanting the incantation as he went. His voice was low and soft. 

_A time for everything and everything in it’s place,_  
_May the angel of destiny guide you beyond this impasse,_  
_Traverse in peace on the other side of the veil,_  
_My blessings, So may it be._

He repeated the chant three times before returning to his place. As he said the final words, Sam’s figure, slumped now and almost laying on his side, faded out of sight. 

Dean too was slumped forward; his shoulders hunched inward, his arms wrapped protectively around his middle. Cas set the bowl down, wiping the remaining ash from his fingertips and took a seat next to him. He pulled Dean to him, his body tensing for a second before relaxing into the embrace. His cheeks were wet and Cas ran soothing thumbs down them, wiping away the tear tracks. 

He didn’t speak. He knew there was nothing more he could say right now. He just held the other man against him, one hand coming up to rest on Dean’s chest, and focused on the rhythm of their hearts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spell/Incantation taken from [HERE](https://www.wattpad.com/111945314-loki%27s-magic-lessons-spell-to-help-a-spirit-cross).


	12. Epilogue

Cas wiped a hand over his brow, grimacing when it came back slick with sweat. He looked at the last few boxes piled up in the driveway and then glanced around. Dean was coming out of the house, a cool bottle of water in each hand. His gray t-shirt stuck to him in places and Cas couldn’t help the wash of arousal he felt at the sight. He tamped it down though. Now was not the time. 

“We don’t have to do this today Dean. We can just shove them in the garage or the office. The boxes will keep.” 

Dean passed him the water and took a long drink of his own bottle before replying. The water was cold, almost making Cas’ teeth hurt, but it felt delicious sliding down his parched throat. 

“No, sweetheart. I want to finish it today. I know us and those boxes will stay in the garage or the office for months if we leave them there.” He gave Cas a soft smile, “Really, it’s fine Cas. Hell, it’s kind of fitting that you’re moving in today. When Sammy left -” he paused to clear his throat, “We both know this is the day you became a part of this family, even if it took the both of us a while to admit it out loud.” 

Cas felt his heart swoop at the words. It had been a long two years for both of them following Sam’s passing. Dean had taken the loss hard, though not as hard as the last time, and Cas had been there to help him through it. When he finally came out the other side, they had admitted how much they meant to one another and had been practically inseparable ever since. 

They finished their waters and shared a delightfully cold kiss before heading inside. Cas’ arms were burning already and his back ached. He groaned thinking about the stairs and adjusted the box in his grasp. 

The attic was much as they had left it. Boxes still sat untouched on one side, Sam’s bedroom furniture on the other. The chalk circle was just a faint outline now. Cas had scrubbed the floor one day but he never could get all of it out. He wasn’t sure why but he thought it was probably part of the ritual left behind in the chalk. 

They started a new pile of boxes near the old one. Cas chuckled to himself when he saw his own boxes, labeled and sealed with clear tape, next to Dean’s which were dented, un-labeled, and just had the tops folded in to help them stay shut. 

Living together was going to be interesting. 

Dean didn’t stay in the attic any longer than he had to but they both managed to get the boxes up there in good time. Cas took one last glance at the faded circle and said a little prayer to Sam wherever he was before heading back downstairs. 

Dean was in the kitchen, wrist deep in a bowl of ground meat as he mixed spices into it. Cas groaned when he saw it and Dean winked.

“Like what you see, Cas?” 

Cas smiled at him. “You know I love your burgers.” He said as he leaned in and pecked Dean on the cheek. He dropped into a kitchen chair, his sore body relishing the change in position. He liked watching Dean cook. He had an easy confidence about him, born out of practice and the ability to improvise as needed. He split the meat into portions, rolling each one into a ball and then comparing them to make sure they were equal. 

He heard what sounded like an exaggerated moan from somewhere behind him and his eyebrows shot up. Dean chuckled as the sound happened again. 

“Babe, will you get that. It’s your brother.”

Cas felt his eyebrows rise even higher. Dean grinned at him. “Oh come on now. He changed my ringtone the other day because he thinks it’ll embarrass me. I’m not changing it back until after I see him again, so he’ll know his stupid prank didn’t work.” 

Cas rolled his eyes in fond exasperation. 

Dean and Gabriel hadn’t liked each other at first. Their personalities were too similar in some respects, Cas thought. They were both stubborn, fiercely loyal, and protective of the people they cared about. In this case that meant Castiel and caused them to butt heads on more than one occasion. Eventually they learned to trust one another and focus on other forms of common ground – namely their shared love of cheesy action movies, desserts (Dean was more specifically geared towards pie, while Gabriel would eat just about anything with sugar in it, but they still seemed to make it work) and vintage pornography. Cas still laughed every time he remembered how they had figured that one out. 

The phone moaned again and Cas jumped. He glared at Dean as he stood and moved to get it out of the windowsill where it was charging. 

“I regret the day I let you two meet.” He said as he unplugged the phone and brought it to Dean. 

“Yeah, Yeah. Open it and see what he wants, I’ve got my hands dirty.” He said, lifting his greasy hands to demonstrate. Cas rolled his eyes and did as asked. 

“Why is he in your phone under Sex Tiger?” Cas said, trying to stifle a grin. Dean shook his head. 

“Yeah, he changed that too. It makes me laugh though, so I never changed it back. He has me as something stupid like Bam-A-Lama-Dean-Dong in his.” He shrugged, “What can I say, your brother’s an idiot.” 

Cas nodded in agreement. He smiled softly. He was happy that Gabe and Dean had become friends, no matter what he said about it. He knew that Gabe could never replace Sam, and would never try to, but he thought it was nice that Dean had someone to joke around with in this way again. 

“He says he’s making your birthday cake this year because he found the perfect cake pan.” Cas said, scrolling down the message. He barked a laugh when he got to the picture and clapped a hand over his mouth. 

“Let me see!” Dean said. He motioned ineffectually with his still unclean hands. Cas turned the phone and Dean started shaking his head. 

“He better fucking not.” He said with mock seriousness in his tone. 

“But Dean, it has a little top hat and mustache! It’s very festive!” he said looking down at the picture again. The cake pan was in the shape of a dick, with candy accessories. 

Cas laughed as Dean grumbled his way through the rest of his meal prep.

When the burgers were finished they each took a patio chair, balancing their plates in their laps. Dean raised his beer and Cas did the same. 

“Here’s to you moving in, and now that I’ve seen how much stuff you have, I’d like to say that we will never be moving out.” Dean said, laughing a little. 

Cas shook his head. 

“And uh,” Dean paused, looking out into the yard for a moment before returning to Cas’ face, “Here’s to Sammy. I miss you brother.” He said the last part softly and Cas felt a little bit of his heart break at the words. 

“To Sam.” He said and they clinked their bottles together. 

They sat in the peaceful silence of their backyard. The burgers were delicious as always and Cas ate his faster than was acceptable in polite society. As he ate, he looked out into the yard, already making plans for his garden. 

“Hey Cas,” Dean said once he had finished his meal and put his plate down on top of Cas’. “You know, when you move into a new place, you’re supposed to christen all the rooms.” He wiggled his eyebrows in Cas’ direction. 

Cas groaned at the terrible gesture. “Dean, you have lived here for years and I have practically been living here for months.” He teased. 

Dean grinned, “Come on, baby. It’s tradition.” 

“Are we starting with the patio? Cause I’m not sure the fence is tall enough for that.” He said, pretending to survey the area. Dean stood and took his hands, pulling him to his feet. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man’s waist and held him close before leaning in to kiss along his neck and jaw. 

“Nah, we’ll save that for a different day.” He whispered, cupping Cas’ ass with both hands and squeezing. “I vote we start in the kitchen.”

**Author's Note:**

> On Tumblr at [Destieltrashland](http://destieltrashland.tumblr.com)


End file.
